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by RosemarysBabysitter (TashaElizabeth)



Series: Goretober Prompts [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashaElizabeth/pseuds/RosemarysBabysitter
Summary: Finn doesn't battle his demon, but he doesn't master it either. Goretober Prompt: Mouth Trauma





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Finn paints the mouth on his throat. He does it himself, with precision, with control. He outlines the teeth and the tongue and fills in the black and red between them. Other people can help him with his back, can write symbols and sigils on his legs and stomach but Finn does the mouth himself. Finn is precise. Finn is in control.

There are dreams at night that don’t feel like dreams.Wherever he is the air smells like home and the shadows loom dark from every corner. Finn doesn’t have to paint the mouth on his throat. He walks through darkened streets or silent forests. He is himself but drowsy and dulled. It’s only when he spots a figure in the distance that he starts to rouse, interested in everything about them. As he quickens his pace to catch up to them ( for they are always far off across a long and empty landscape) he studies them. Their gait and height and strength and demeanor and every other detail a predator might take notice of.

If they notice him coming up behind him they grab their arms to themselves and walk faster. Not all of them notice. Sometimes they are lost in their own realities, thoughtfilled or crazy or drunk. He catches up to them either way.

He reaches for them and grabs at a wrist, a handful of hair, a collar. He arches, tossing his head back and when he does the skin of his throat keeps stretching. Stretches into tearing, shredding at the hinge of his neck and beneath the skin, beneath the muscles and where his voice and his breath should be, comes the mouth. The Demon’s mouth. 

There is always a moment, with Finn riding the Demon’s hunger ,where he simply looks at them, terrified and small. Then he lunges and the Demon rips into their flesh. They both revel in the sound of skin ripping back, the feel of sinew, in the taste of sweet, hot blood.

Finn wakes in the morning feeling mighty and strong. He paints the mouth on his throat. He does this precisely. He is in control.


End file.
